Our Little Horror Story
by Buick Regal Racecar 56
Summary: Spring Bonnie was made to entertain children. He was made to make people happy. So why does he wake up alone in the dark?


Whatever happened was a blur, a moment awake followed by that same darkness he was used to after all this time. The darkness that now faded slowly away with every repetitive drip. A part of him felt the noise was familiar; Spring Bonnie himself took a long while to realize that the noise was water.

Everything seemed slow; this didn't feel quite right. There was something new to his awareness, something that seemed more … human. Curiously he looked himself over, although he couldn't tell what was really different. He brought his hands to his face; there seemed to be something dark staining his fading gold fabric.

Wait. Fading? How long had he been out?

He struggled to stand, something inside of him driving him. He didn't feel like he was exactly himself, and it was odd. It almost felt like he should still be shut off, in the still of suit mode, but still he was able to move. And these… thoughts… they were unusual. He could not remember a time where he had been able to think to himself, processing information on his own without something to guide him. Still, he managed to get himself off the ground. He was unsure of why he wanted to- the motion seemed unnaturally hard, and he was vaguely aware of a noise he wasn't used to.

"Hello?". Maybe there was someone nearby. The building seemed to creak in response, but no human answered. The only noise beyond that was the still repetitive dripping.

His new consciousness faded for a moment, the world around shifting to black, before he came back to himself at the makeshift door to this derelict room. He looked around in confusion, concerned. How had he gotten over here, and why was he reaching for the door as if he knew where it might lead? Still, maybe there was someone on the other side who might know what was going on and who might help him. He pushed on it - a part of him told him that it might work, though he could not find the source of that knowledge in his own mind. The door didn't budge, seeming stuck in place. He put more weight against it, but still it didn't move.

"Is anyone out there?". There was still no answer, and for the first time he realized how alone he was. This room was unfamiliar; he had no idea how long he'd been here or even if he should be functional right now. This whole situation felt wrong. No one was here. Why was he awake? Why was he able to think like this?

"Please. Someone. Anyone.". He sat down against the door. He'd never felt like this before, like the darkness of being shut down was somehow a part of him while powered on.

"I do not want to be alone."

The darkness faded in again, and he let it.

He came to, every now and then. He didn't know how long it was between fades; it never felt like a natural shut down/power up sequence, although each time he remembered less of what that was meant to feel like. Sometimes he came to and found himself in places he hadn't been the last time he faded. He didn't know how; but the feeling that there was something desperately wrong with him persisted throughout this odd cycle.

His pleas for someone to find him were less frequent over time; even in the dark room, he could tell the place was slowly decaying around him. He was lonely, lost in the continuing newness of being able to think and make decisions for himself. Sometimes he sang to himself, a creaky rendition of old diner tunes that slowly decayed alongside the room as his pieces seemed to wear down. He'd always pause politely, as if his old friend Fredbear might appear and answer with his lines; no matter how much he wished it, it never happened.

One day, he faded in and his surroundings were different. This room- it had an exit. A light flickered outside of it for the first time in … he had no idea how long. He struggled to stand, the movement rough and tedious after all this time (though he still had no idea how long it may have been). He walked towards the light, a slow, ambling movement that felt like it took effort. This place was curious, seemingly run down but stuffed with posters and pieces from… Freddy's.

A blinking red light caught his attention and after some searching, he found the source.

"... Lo?". It was no use anymore- his voice was long gone, replaced with a staticky, broken sound that only occasionally mimicked words. He walked towards the light, and found another hallway. Maybe if he kept following them, he'd find someone.

He kept wandering for a bit, disoriented by the sheer amount of stuff plastered on the walls and littering the pathways, tilting his head up to glance at the red lights whenever he found them.

"Hello.". He stopped dead in his tracks. It sounded, for all he remembered, like a child. Surely there wasn't a child in this lonely place? Still, what if it were? What if it was a human, someone who might be able to take him to someone who, for once, could explain what was happening?

He followed where the sound had come from; he couldn't seem to find the source. He looked with a desperation he still was surprised he could feel, but found nothing, and just when he was about to give up, he heard another call from elsewhere in the building.

He followed it too; and despite not finding the source once again, the sound kept continuing on, always seemingly out of reach. After what felt like an eternity wandering the empty hallways, he stopped in one for a long while. There was another call from somewhere else in the building, but though something deep inside pulled him to find the source, he no longer felt like chasing it. Maybe he should just go back …

_He's toying with you._

The voice came from within him. Calm, collected, seemingly bored. He looked around, wondering if it was a trick.

_Fool. I am a part of you. You will not find me there. _

A part… of him? Like… suit mode?

_He is watching you from the cameras. That light you keep following. He must be playing a sound so that your programming makes you follow it away from him._

Something felt wrong about this voice, something deeply wrong. He had no idea what it was; never had this happened.

_He does not want you to find him. They abandoned you for 30 years. They only put you here as a gimmick. They do not want Spring Bonnie. They want a monster. If you keep searching for that sound in vain, you will just continue to slowly rust away, lost and alone. Do you want that?_

He absolutely didn't.

_I will help you. Maybe together we will find a way out of here?_

"... Ar… ou?". The sounds didn't quite form words, the static hissing from his broken voicebox.

_An old friend. _

The voice clicked and he remembered, seemingly out of the blue. And he remembered William Afton.

For the first time since he'd found himself in that lonely room, he didn't feel lonely anymore. He could always trust one of the old friends from the diner. They had never led him wrong.

_Let's find whoever has been playing tricks on us and see if we can get him to see this whole thing as a misunderstanding, shall we?_

He nodded, somehow knowing his old friend would know the movement as an agreement.

Maybe, just maybe, he could finally stop being lost.


End file.
